
Class __1^___„_ 

Book _ 

Copyright^? 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



THE RECORD OF A 
QUAKER CONSCIENCE 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

HBW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS 
ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd.. 

TORONTO 



THE RECORD OF A 
QUAKER CONSCIENCE 



CYRUS PRINGLE'S DIARY 



WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 

RUFUS M. JONES 



N«» fork 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

1918 

Jill rights reserved 






Copyright, 1913 
By The Atlantic Monthly Company 

Copyright, 1918 
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 



Set up and printed. Published, February, 1918 



FEB 25 1918 

©Q.A481821 

"it. 



INTRODUCTION 

The body of this little book consists of 
the personal diary of a young Quaker named 
Cyrus Guernsey Pringle of Charlotte, Ver- 
mont. He was drafted for service in the 
Union Army, July 13th, 1863. Under the 
existing draft law a person who had reli- 
gious scruples against engaging in war was 
given the privilege of paying a commutation 
fine of three hundred dollars. This commu- 
tation money Pringle's conscience would not 
allow him to pay. A prosperous uncle pro- 
posed to pay it surreptitiously for him, but 
the honest-minded youth discovered the plan 
and refused to accept the well meant kind- 
ness, since he believed, no doubt rightly, that 
this money would be used to pay for an army 

, _w_ ... 5 



6 Introduction 

substitute in his place. The Diary relates in 
simple, naive style the experiences which be- 
fell the narrator as he followed his hard 
path of duty, and incidentally it reveals a 
fine and sensitive type of character, not un- 
like that which comes so beautifully to light 
in the Journal of John Woolman. 

This is plainly not the psychological mo- 
ment to study the highly complex and deli- 
cate problem of conscience. The strain and 
tension of world issues disturb our judgment. 
We cannot if we would turn away from the 
events and movements that affect the destiny 
of nations to dwell calmly and securely upon 
our own inner, private actions. It is never 
easy, even when the world is most normal 
and peaceful, to mark off with sharp lines 
the area of individual freedom. No person 
ever lives unto himself or is sufficient to him- 
self. He is inextricably woven into the tis- 
sue of the social group. His privileges, his 



Introduction 7 

responsibilities, his obligations are forever 
over-individual and come from beyond his 
narrow isolated life. If he is to be a ra- 
tional being at all he must relate his life to 
others and share in some measure their tri- 
umphs and their tragedies. 

But at the same time the most precious 
thing in the universe is that mysterious thing 
we call individual liberty and which even 
God himself guards and respects. Up to 
some point, difficult certainly to delimit, a 
man must be captain of his soul. He can- 
not be a person if he does not have a sphere 
of power over his own act. To treat him as 
a puppet of external forces, or a mere cog in 
a vast social mechanism, is to wipe out the 
unique distinction between person and thing. 
Somewhere the free spirit must take its stand 
and claim its God-given distinction. If life 
is to be at all worth while there must be some 
boundary within which the soul holds its own 



8 Introduction 

august and ultimate tribunal. That Sanctu- 
ary domain within the soul the Quakers, 
ever since their origin in the period of 
the English Commonwealth, have always 
guarded as the most sacred possession a man 
can have. 

No grave difficulty, at least in the modern 
world, is involved in this faith, until it sud- 
denly comes into conflict with the urgent re- 
quirements of social efficiency. When the 
social group is fused with emotion and 
moves almost as an undivided unit toward 
some end, then the claim of a right, on the 
ground of conscience, for the individual to 
deviate from the group and to pursue an- 
other or an opposite course appears serious 
if not positively insufferable. The abstract 
principle of individual liberty all modern per- 
sons grant; the strain comes when some one 
proposes to insist upon a concrete instance 
of it which involves implications that may 



Introduction 9 

endanger the ends which the intensified 
group is pursuing. A situation of this type 
confronts the Quakers whenever their coun- 
try engages in war, since as a people they 
feel that they cannot fight or take any part 
in military operations. 

They do not find it an easy thing to give 
a completely rational ground for their oppo- 
sition to war. Nor, as a matter of fact, is 
it any more easy for the militarist to ration- 
alize his method of solving world difficulties. 
Both are evidently actuated by instinctive 
forces which lie far beneath the level of pure 
reason. 

The roots of the Quakers' opposition to 
war go deep down into the soil of the past. 
They are the outgrowth and culmination of 
a long spiritual movement. They carry 
along, in their ideas, emotions, habits and 
attitudes, tendencies which have been uncon- 
sciously sucked in with their mother's milk, 



io Introduction 

and which, therefore, cannot be held up and 
analysed. The mystics, the humanists, the 
anabaptists, the spiritual reformers, are 
forerunners of the Quaker. They are a 
necessary part of his pedigree, — and they 
were all profoundly opposed to war. This 
attitude has become an integral part of the 
vital stock of truth by which the Quaker lives 
his spiritual life, and to violate it is for him 
to stop living " the way of truth," as the 
early Quakers quaintly called their religious 
faith. 

But the Quakers have never been cham- 
pions of the negative. They do not take 
kindly to the role of being " antis." Their 
negations grow out of their insistent affirma- 
tions. If they are against an established in- 
stitution or custom it is because they are for 
some other way of life which seems to them 
divinely right, and their first obligation is to 
incarnate that way of life. They cannot, 



Introduction 1 1 

therefore, stand apart in monastic seclusion 
and safely watch the swirl of forces which 
they silently disapprove. If in war-time 
they do not fight, they do something else. 
They accept and face the dangers incident to 
their way of life. They feel a compulsion 
to take up and in some measure to bear the 
burden of the world's suffering. They en- 
deavour to exhibit, humbly and modestly, the 
power of sacrificial love, freely, joyously 
given, and they venture all that the brave can 
venture to carry their faith into life and ac- 
tion. In the American civil war, in the 
Franco-Prussian, the South African, the Bal- 
kan, the Russo-Japanese, small bands of 
Quakers revealed the same spirit of service 
and the same obliviousness to danger which 
have marked the larger groups that have 
manned the ambulance units and the war- 
victims' relief and reconstruction work of 
this world war. In this present crisis they 



12 Introduction 

have gone wherever they could go, — to Bel- 
gium, to France, to Russia, to Italy, to Serbia 
and Greece and Syria and Mesopotamia, — 
to carry into operation the forces of restora- 
tion and of reconstruction. They have not 
stood aloof as spectators of the world's trag- 
edy. They have entered into it and shared 
it, and they have counted neither money nor 
life dear to themselves in their desire to 
reveal the power of redeeming and trans- 
forming love. 

Slowly the sincerity of the Quaker convic- 
tion about war has made itself felt and lim- 
ited legislative provisions have been made, 
especially in England and America, to meet 
the claims of conscience. The problem 
which confronts the law-maker, even when 
he is sympathetic with the rights of convic- 
tion, is the grave difficulty of determining 
where to draw the line of special exception 
to general requirements and how to discover 



Introduction 13 

the sincerity of conscientious objection to 
war. The " slacker " is always a stern pos- 
sibility. There must be no holes in the net 
for him to escape through. The makers of 
armies naturally want every man who can be 
spared from civilian life and can be utilized 
for military operations. It has consequently 
often seemed necessary for law-makers to be 
narrow and hard toward the obviously sin- 
cere for fear of being too easy and lenient 
with those suspected of having sham con- 
sciences. 

During the Civil War in America, Presi- 
dent Lincoln, eager as he was to win the war, 
was always deeply in sympathy with the 
Quakers, and he stretched his administrative 
powers to their full limit to provide relief 
for conscientious convictions. In the early 
stages of the great conflict the President 
wrote the following kindly note in answer to 
a message from New England Yearly Meet- 



14 Introduction 

ing of the Society of Friends: " Engaged 
as I am, in a great war, I fear it will be diffi- 
cult for the world to understand how fully 
I appreciate the principles of peace incul- 
cated in this letter [of yours] and every 
where by the Society of Friends." * Both 
he and Secretary Stanton made many positive 
efforts to find some way of providing for the 
tender consciences of Friends without being 
unfair to the rights of others. They even 
requested American Friends to call a confer- 
ence to consider how to find a satisfactory 
solution of the problem. Such a conference 
was held in Baltimore, December 7th, 1863, 
and the Friends there assembled expressed 
great appreciation of " the kindness evinced 
at all times by the President and Secretary of 
War." A delegation from this conference 
visited Washington and, in co-operation with 

1 Nicolay and Hay: "Abraham Lincoln," Vol. VI, p. 
328. 



Introduction 15 

Secretary Stanton, succeeded in securing a 
clause in the enrolment bill, declaring 
Friends to be non-combatants, assigning all 
drafted Friends to hospital service or work 
among freedmen, and further providing for 
the entire exemption of Friends from mili- 
tary service on the payment of $300 into a 
fund for the relief of sick and wounded. 2 

On several occasions Friends in larger or 
smaller groups went to Washington for 
times of prayer and spiritual communion 
with the great President. These times were 
deeply appreciated by the heavily burdened 
man. Tears ran down his cheeks, we are 
told, as he sat bowed in solemn silence or 
knelt as some moved Friend prayed for him 
to Almighty God. Writing of the visit of 
Isaac and Sarah Harvey of Clinton County, 

2 Secretary Stanton endeavoured to provide that this 
commutation money should be made into a fund for the 
care of freedmen. This suggestion was, however, not 
adopted by Congress. 



1 6 Introduction 

Ohio, in the autumn of 1862, Lincoln ten- 
derly said: " May the Lord comfort them 
as they have sustained me." A letter writ- 
ten by the President in 1862 to Eliza P. 
Gurney, one of a small group of Friends who 
visited him and prayed with him in the au- 
tumn of that year, reveals forcibly how he 
regarded these occasions : 

"I am glad of this interview, and glad to know 
that I have your sympathy and prayers. We are 
indeed going through a great trial — a fiery trial. 
In the very responsible position in which I happen 
to be placed, being a humble instrument in the hands 
of our Heavenly Father, as I am, and as we all are, 
to work out his great purposes, I have desired that 
all my works and acts may be according to his will, 
and that it might be so, I have sought his aid; but 
if, after endeavouring to do my best in the light 
which he affords me, I find my efforts fail, I must 
believe that for some purpose unknown to me, his 
will is otherwise. If I had had my way, this war 
would never have been commenced. If I had been 
allowed my way, this war would have been ended 
before this; but we find it still continues, and we 
must believe that he permits it for some wise pur- 



Introduction iy 

pose of his own, mysterious and unknown to us; 
and though with our limited understandings we may 
not be able to comprehend it, yet we cannot but be- 
lieve that he who made the world still governs it." 

Somewhat later President Lincoln wrote 
again to Eliza P. Gurney requesting her to 
exercise her freedom to write to him as he 
felt the need of spiritual help and rein- 
forcement. Her letter of reply so closely 
touched him and spoke to his condition that 
he carried it about with him and it was found 
in his coat pocket at the time of his death, 
twenty months after it was written. In the 
autumn of 1864, President Lincoln, still im- 
pressed by the message which he had re- 
ceived, wrote a memorable letter to Eliza P. 
Gurney. It was as follows : 

" I have not forgotten — probably never shall for- 
get — the very impressive occasion when yourself 
and friends visited me on a Sabbath forenoon two 
years ago. Nor has your kind letter, written nearly 
a year later, ever been forgotten. In all it has 



1 8 Introduction 

been your purpose to strengthen my reliance on God. 
I am much indebted to the good Christian people of 
the country for their constant prayers and consola- 
tions; and to no one of them more than to your- 
self. The purposes of the Almighty are perfect, 
and must prevail, though we erring mortals may fail 
to accurately perceive them in advance. We hoped 
for a happy termination of this terrible war long 
before this; but God knows best, and has ruled 
otherwise. We shall yet acknowledge his wisdom, 
and our own error therein. Meanwhile we must 
work earnestly in the best lights he gives us, trusting 
that so working still conduces to the great ends he 
ordains. Surely he intends some great good to fol- 
low this mighty convulsion, which no mortal could 
make, and no mortal could stay. Your people, the 
Friends, have had, and are having, a very great trial. 
On principle and faith opposed to both war and op- 
pression, they can only practically oppose oppression 
by war. In this dilemma some have chosen one 
horn and some the other. For those appealing to 
me on conscientious grounds, I have done, and shall 
do, the best I could and can, in my own conscience, 
under my oath to the law. That you believe this I 
doubt not; and, believing it, I shall still receive for 
our country and myself your earnest prayers to our 
Father in heaven. ,, 



Introduction 19 

It is, then, not surprising that President 
Lincoln was " moved with sympathy " when 
he heard the story of Pringle's suffering for 
conscience, or that he quietly said to the Sec- 
retary of War, " It is my urgent wish that 
this Friend be released." 

Rufus M. Jones. 
Haverford, Pa., 
December, 19 17. 



THE RECORD OF A QUAKER 
CONSCIENCE 



THE RECORD OF A QUAKER 
CONSCIENCE 

At Burlington, Vt, on the 13th of the 
seventh month, 1863, I was drafted. Pleas- 
ant are my recollections of the 14th. Much 
of that rainy day I spent in my chamber, as 
yet unaware of my fate; in writing and 
reading and in reflecting to compose my mind 
for any event. The day and the exercise, by 
the blessing of the Father, brought me pre- 
cious reconciliation to the will of Providence. 

With ardent zeal for our Faith and the 
cause of our peaceable principles; and almost 
disgusted at the lukewarmness and unfaith- 
fulness of very many who profess these; and 
considering how heavily slight crosses bore 
upon their shoulders, I felt to say, " Here am 

23 



24 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

I, Father, for thy service. As thou will." 
May I trust it was He who called me and 
sent me forth with the consolation: " My 
grace is sufficient for thee." Deeply have I 
felt many times since that I am nothing with- 
out the companionship of the Spirit. 

I was to report on the 27th. Then, loyal 
to our country, Wm. Lindley Dean and I ap- 
peared before the Provost Marshal with a 
statement of our cases. We were ordered 
for a hearing on the 29th. On the afternoon 
of that day W. L. D. was rejected upon exam- 
ination of the Surgeon, but my case not com- 
ing up, he remained with me, — much to my 
strength and comfort. Sweet was his con- 
verse and long to be remembered, as we lay 
together that warm summer night on the 
straw of the barracks. By his encourage- 
ment much was my mind strengthened; my 
desires for a pure life, and my resolutions for 
good. In him and those of whom he spoke I 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 25 

saw the abstract beauty of Quakerism. On 
the next morning came Joshua M. Dean to 
support me and plead my case before the 
Board of Enrollment. On the day after, the 
31st, I came before the Board. Respectfully 
those men listened to the exposition of our 
principles ; and, on our representing that we 
looked for some relief from the President, 
the marshal released me for twenty days. 
Meanwhile appeared Lindley M. Macomber 
and was likewise, by the kindness of the 
marshal, though they had received instruc- 
tions from the Provost Marshal General to 
show such claims no partiality, released to 
appear on the 20th day of the eighth month. 
All these days we were urged by our ac- 
quaintances to pay our commutation money; 
by some through well-meant kindness and 
sympathy; by others through interest in the 
war; and by others still through a belief they 
entertained it was our duty. But we confess 



26 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

a higher duty than that to country; and, ask- 
ing no military protection of our Govern- 
ment and grateful for none, deny any obliga- 
tion to support so unlawful a system, as we 
hold a war to be even when waged in oppo- 
sition to an evil and oppressive power and 
ostensibly in defence of liberty, virtue, and 
free institutions ; and, though touched by the 
kind interest of friends, we could not relieve 
their distress by a means we held even more 
sinful than that of serving ourselves, as by 
supplying money to hire a substitute we would 
not only be responsible for the result, but be 
the agents in bringing others into evil. So 
looking to our Father alone for help, and 
remembering that " Whoso loseth his life for 
my sake shall find it; but whoso saveth it shall 
lose it," we presented ourselves again before 
the Board, as we had promised to do when 
released. Being offered four days more of 
time, we accepted it as affording opportunity 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 27 

to visit our friends; and moreover as there 
would be more probability of meeting Peter 
Dakin at Rutland. 

Sweet was the comfort and sympathy of 
our friends as we visited them. There was 
a deep comfort, as we left them, in the 
thought that so many pure and pious people 
follow us with their love and prayers. Ap- 
pearing finally before the marshal on the 
24th, suits and uniforms were selected for us, 
and we were called upon to give receipts for 
them. L. M. M. was on his guard, and, 
being first called upon, declared he could not 
do so, as that would imply acceptance. Fail- 
ing to come to any agreement, the matter was 
postponed till next morning, when we certi- 
fied to the fact that the articles were " with 
us." Here I must make record of the kind- 
ness of the marshal, Rolla Gleason, who 
treated us with respect and kindness. He 
had spoken with respect of our Society; had 



28 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

given me furloughs to the amount of twenty- 
four days, when the marshal at Rutland con- 
sidered himself restricted by his oath and 
duty to six days ; and here appeared in person 
to prevent any harsh treatment of us by his 
sergeants; and though much against his in- 
clinations, assisted in putting on the uniform 
with his own hands. We bade him farewell 
with grateful feelings and expressions of fear 
that we should not fall into as tender hands 
again; and amid the rain in the early morn- 
ing, as the town clock tolled the hour of 
seven, we were driven amongst the flock that 
was going forth to the slaughter, down the 
street and into the cars for Brattleboro. 
Dark was the day with murk and cloud and 
rain; and, as we rolled down through the 
narrow vales of eastern Vermont, somewhat 
of the shadow crept into our hearts and filled 
them with dark apprehensions of evil fortune 
ahead; of long, hbpetess trials; of abuse from 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 29 

inferior officers; of contempt from common 
soldiers; of patient endurance (or an at- 
tempt at this), unto an end seen only by the 
eye of a strong faith. 

Herded into a car by ourselves, we con- 
scripts, substitutes, and the rest, through the 
greater part of the day, swept over the fer- 
tile meadows along the banks of the White 
River and the Connecticut, through pleasant 
scenes that had little of delight for us. At 
Woodstock we were joined by the conscripts 
from the 1st District, — altogether an in- 
ferior company from those before with us, 
who were honest yeomen from the northern 
and mountainous towns, while these were 
many of them substitutes from the cities. 

At Brattleboro we were marched up to the 
camp; our knapsacks and persons searched; 
and any articles of citizen's dress taken from 
us ; and then shut up in a rough board build- 
ing under a guard. Here the prospect was 



3<3 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

dreary, and I felt some lack of confidence in 
our Father's arm, though but two days be- 
fore I wrote to my dear friend, E. M. H., — 

I go tomorrow where the din 
Of war is in the sulphurous air. 
I go the Prince of Peace to serve, 
His cross of suffering to bear. 

Brattleboro, 26th, 8th month, 1863. — 
Twenty-five or thirty caged lions roam lazily 
to and fro through this building hour after 
hour through the day. On every side with- 
out, sentries pace their slow beat, bearing 
loaded muskets. Men are ranging through 
the grounds or hanging in synods about the 
doors of the different buildings, apparently 
without a purpose. Aimless is military life, 
except betimes its aim is deadly. Idle life 
blends with violent death-struggles till the 
man is unmade a man; and henceforth there 
is little of manhood about him. Of a man 
hie is made a soldier, which is a man-destroy- 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 31 

ing machine in two senses, — a thing for the 
prosecuting or repelling an invasion like the 
block of stone in the fortress or the plate of 
iron on the side of the Monitor. They are 
alike. I have tried in vain to define a differ- 
ence, and I see only this. The iron-clad 
with its gun is the bigger soldier: the more 
formidable in attack, the less liable to de- 
struction in a given time ; the block the most 
capable of resistance; both are equally obedi- 
ent to officers. Or the more perfect is the 
soldier, the more nearly he approaches these 
in this respect. 

Three times a day we are marched out to 
the mess houses for our rations. In our 
hands we carry a tin plate, whereon we bring 
back a piece of bread (sour and tough most 
likely) , and a cup. Morning and noon, a 
piece of meat, antique betimes, bears com- 
pany with the bread. They who wish it re- 
ceive in their cups two softs of decoctions: 



32 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

in the morning burnt bread, or peas perhaps, 
steeped in water with some saccharine sub- 
stance added (I dare not affirm it to be 
sugar). At night steeped tea extended by 
some other herbs probably and its pungency 
and acridity assuaged by the saccharine prin- 
ciple aforementioned. On this we have so 
far subsisted and, save some nauseating, 
comfortably. As we go out and return, on 
right and left and in front and rear go bayo- 
nets. Some substitutes heretofore have es- 
caped and we are not to be neglected in our 
attendants. Hard beds are healthy, but I 
query cannot the result be defeated by the 
degree? Our mattresses are boards. Only 
the slight elasticity of our thin blankets 
breaks the fall of our flesh and bones thereon. 
Oh! now I praise the discipline I have re- 
ceived from uncarpeted floors through warm 
summer nights of my boyhood. 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 33 

The building resounds with petty talk; 
jokes and laughter and swearing. Some- 
thing more than that. Many of the caged 
lions are engaged with cards, and money 
changes hands freely. Some of the caged 
lions read, and some sleep, and so the weary 
day goes by. 

L. M. M. and I addressed the following 
letter to Governor Holbrook and hired a 
corporal to forward it to him. 

Brattleboro, Vt., 26th, 8th month, 1863. 
Frederick Holbrook, 

Governor of Vermont: — 
We, the undersigned members of the So- 
ciety of Friends, beg leave to represent to 
thee, that we were lately drafted in the 3d 
Disk of Vermont, have been forced into the 
army and reached the camp near this town 
yesterday. 



34 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

That in the language of the elders of our 
New York Yearly Meeting, " We love our 
country and acknowledge with gratitude to 
our Heavenly Father the many blessings we 
have been favoured with under the govern- 
ment ; and can feel no sympathy with any who 
seek its overthrow." 

But that, true to well-known principles of 
our Society, we cannot violate our religious 
convictions either by complying with military 
requisitions or by the equivalents of this com- 
pliance, — the furnishing of a substitute or 
payment of commutation money. That, 
therefore, we are brought into suffering and 
exposed to insult and contempt from those 
who have us in charge, as well as to the penal- 
ties of insubordination, though liberty of con- 
science is granted us by the Constitution of 
Vermont as well as that of the United States. 

Therefore, we beg of thee as Governor of 
our State any assistance thou may be able to 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 35 

render, should it be no more than the influ- 
ence of thy position interceding in our behalf. 

Truly Thy Friend, 
Cyrus G. Pringle. 

P.S. — We are informed we are to be sent 
to the vicinity of Boston tomorrow. 

27th. — On board train to Boston. The 
long afternoon of yesterday passed slowly 
away. This morning passed by, — the time 
of our stay in Brattleboro, and we neither 
saw nor heard anything of our Governor. 
We suppose he could not or would not help 
us. So as we go down to our trial we have 
no arm to lean upon among all men; but why 
dost thou complain, oh, my Soul? Seek thou 
that faith that will prove a buckler to thy 
breast, and gain for thee the protection of 
an arm mightier than the arms of all men. 

28 th. Camp Vermont: Long Island, 
Boston Harbour. — In the early morning 
damp and cool we marched down off the 



36 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

heights of Brattleboro to take train for this 
place. Once in the car the dashing young 
cavalry officer, who had us in charge, gave 
notice he had placed men through the cars, 
with loaded revolvers, who had orders to 
shoot any person attempting to escape, or 
jump from the window, and that any one 
would be shot if he even put his head out of 
the window. Down the beautiful valley of 
the Connecticut, all through its broad inter- 
vales, heavy with its crops of corn or tobacco, 
or shaven smooth by the summer harvest; 
over the hard and stony counties of northern 
Massachusetts, through its suburbs and under 
the shadow of Bunker Hill Monument we 
came into the City of Boston, " the Hub of 
the Universe." Out through street after 
street we were marched double guarded to 
the wharves, where we took a small steamer 
for the island some six miles out in the har- 
bour. A circumstance connected with this 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 37 

march is worth mentioning for its singular- 
ity: at the head of this company, like con- 
victs (and feeling very much like such), 
through the City of Boston walked, with 
heavy hearts and down-cast eyes, two 
Quakers. 

Here on this dry and pleasant island in 
the midst of the beautiful jMassachusetts 
Bay, we have the liberty of the camp, the 
privilege of air and sunshine and hay beds 
to sleep upon. So we went to bed last night 
with somewhat of gladness elevating our de- 
pressed spirits. 

Here are many troops gathering daily 
from all the New England States except Con- 
necticut and Rhode Island. Their white 
tents are dotting the green slopes and hill- 
tops of the island and spreading wider and 
wider. This is the flow of military tide 
here just now. The ebb went out to sea in 
the shape of a great shipload just as we came 



38 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

in, and another load will be sent before many 
days. All is war here. We are surrounded 
by the pomp and circumstance of war, and 
enveloped in the cloud thereof. The cloud 
settles down over the minds and souls of all ; 
they cannot see beyond, nor do they try; but 
with the clearer eye of Christian faith I try 
to look beyond all this error unto Truth and 
Holiness immaculate: and thanks to our 
Father, I am favoured with glimpses that are 
sweet consolation amid this darkness. 

This is one gratification: the men with us 
give us their sympathy. They seem to look 
upon us tenderly and pitifully, and their ex- 
pressions of kind wishes are warm. Al- 
though we are relieved from duty and from 
drill, and may lie in our tents during rain 
and at night, we have heard of no complaint. 
This is the more worthy of note as there are 
so few in our little (Vermont) camp. Each 
man comes on guard half the days. It would 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 39 

probably be otherwise were their hearts in 
the service ; but I have yet to find the man in 
any of these camps or at any service who does 
not wish himself at home. Substitutes say 
if they knew all they know now before leaving 
home they would not have enlisted ; and they 
have been but a week from their homes and 
have endured no hardships. Yesterday L. 
M. M. and I appeared before the Captain 
commanding this camp with a statement of 
our cases. He listened to us respectfully and 
promised to refer us to the General com- 
manding here, General Devens; and in the 
meantime released us from duty. In a short 
time afterward he passed us in our tent, ask- 
ing our names. We have not heard from 
him, but do not drill or stand guard; so, we 
suppose, his release was confirmed. At that 
interview a young lieutenant sneeringly told 
us he thought we had better throw away our 
scruples and fight in the service of the coun- 



40 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

try; and as we told the Captain we could 
not accept pay, he laughed mockingly, 
and said he would not stay here for $13.00 
per month. He gets more than a hundred, 
I suppose. 

How beautiful seems the world on this 
glorious morning here by the seaside ! East- 
ward and toward the sun, fair green isles 
with outlines of pure beauty are scattered 
over the blue bay. Along the far line of the 
mainland white hamlets and towns glisten 
in the morning sun; countless tiny waves 
dance in the wind that comes off shore and 
sparkle sunward like myriads of gems. Up 
the fair vault, flecked by scarcely a cloud, 
rolls the sun in glory. Though fair be the 
earth, it has come to be tainted and marred 
by him who was meant to be its crowning 
glory. Behind me on this island are crowded 
vile and wicked men, the murmur of whose 
ribaldry riseth continually like the smoke and 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 41 

fumes of a lower world. Oh! Father of 
Mercies, forgive the hard heartlessness and 
blindness and scarlet sins of my fellows, my 
brothers. 

PRISON EXPERIENCES FOR CONSCIENCE* SAKE 
OUR PRISON 

31st., $th month, 1863. I N Guard 
House. — Yesterday morning L. M. M. and 
I were called upon to do fatigue duty. The 
day before we were asked to do some clean- 
ing about camp and to bring water. We 
wished to be obliging, to appear willing to 
bear a hand toward that which would pro- 
mote our own and our fellows' health and 
convenience; but as we worked we did not 
feel easy. Suspecting we had been assigned 
to such work, the more we discussed in our 
minds the subject, the more clearly the right 
way seemed opened to us ; and we separately 
came to the judgment that we must not con- 



42 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

form to this requirement. So when the ser- 
geant bade us " Police the streets, " we asked 
him if he had received instructions with re- 
gard to us, and he replied we had been as- 
signed to " Fatigue Duty." L. M. M. an- 
swered him that we could not obey. He left 
us immediately for the Major (Jarvis of 
Weathersfield, Vt.). He came back and 
ordered us to the Major's tent. The latter 
met us outside and inquired concerning the 
complaint he had heard of us. Upon our 
statement of our position, he apparently un- 
dertook to argue our whimsies, as he prob- 
ably looked upon our principles, out of our 
heads. We replied to his points as we had 
ability; but he soon turned to bullying us 
rather than arguing with us, and would 
hardly let us proceed with a whole sentence. 
" I make some pretension to religion myself," 
he said; and quoted the Old Testament freely 
in support of war. Our terms were, sub- 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 43 

mission or the guard-house. We replied we 
could not obey. 

This island was formerly occupied by a 
company, who carried on the large farm it 
comprises and opened a great hotel as a sum- 
mer resort. 

The subjects of all misdemeanours, grave 
and small, are here confined. Those who 
have deserted or attempted it; those who 
have insulted officers and those guilty of 
theft, fighting, drunkenness, etc. In most, 
as in the camps, there are traces yet of man- 
hood and of the Divine Spark, but some are 
abandoned, dissolute. There are many here 
among the substitutes who were actors in the 
late New York riots. They show unmis- 
takably the characteristics and sentiments of 
those rioters, and, especially, hatred to the 
blacks drafted and about camp, and exhibit 
this in foul and profane jeers heaped upon 
these unoffending men at every opportunity. 



44 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

In justice to the blacks I must say they are 
superior to the whites in all their behaviour. 

315/. p.m. — Several of us were a little 
time ago called out one by one to answer in- 
quiries with regard to our offences. We re- 
plied we could not comply with military 
/ requisitions. P. D., being last, was asked if 
he would die first, and replied promptly but 
Aiildly, Yes. 

Here we are in prison in our own land for 
no crimes, no offence to God nor man; nay, 
more : we are here for obeying the commands 
of the Son of God and the influences of his 
Holy Spirit. I must look for patience in this 
dark day. I am troubled too much and ex- 
cited and perplexed. 

1st., gth month. — Oh, the horrors of the 
past night — I never before experienced such 
sensations and fears; and never did I feel so 
clearly that I had nothing but the hand of our 
Father to shield me from evil. Last night 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 45 

we three lay down together on the floor of a 
lower room of which we had taken posses- 
sion. The others were above. We had but 
one blanket between us and the floor, and one 
over us. The other one we had lent to a 
wretched deserter who had skulked into our 
room for relief, being without anything of his 
own. We had during the day gained the 
respect of the fellows, and they seemed dis- 
posed to let us occupy our room in peace. I 
cannot say in quiet, for these caged beasts are 
restless, and the resonant boards of this old 
building speak of bedlam. The thin board 
partitions, the light door fastened only by a 
pine stick thrust into a wooden loop on the 
casing, seemed small protection in case of 
assault; but we lay down to sleep in quiet 
trust. But we had scarcely fallen asleep be- 
fore we were awakened by the demoniac 
howlings and yellings of a man just brought 
into the next room, and allowed the liberty of 



46 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

the whole house. He was drunk, and fur- 
ther seemed to be labouring under delirium 
tremens. He crashed about furiously, and 
all the more after the guard tramped heavily 
in and bound him with handcuffs, and chain 
and ball. Again and again they left, only to 
return to quiet him by threats or by crushing 
him down to the floor and gagging him. In 
a couple of hours he became quiet and we got 
considerable sleep. 

In the morning the fellow came into our 
room apologizing for the intrusion. He ap- 
peared a smart, fine-looking young man, rest- 
less and uneasy. P. D. has a way of dispos- 
ing of intruders that is quite effectual. I 
have not entirely disposed of some misgiv- 
ings with respect to the legitimacy of his use 
of the means, so he commenced reading aloud 
in the Bible. The fellow was impatient and 
noisy, but he soon settled down on the floor 
beside him. As he listened and talked with 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 47 

us the recollections of his father's house and 
his innocent childhood were awakened. He 
was the child of pious parents, taught in Sab- 
bath School and under pure home influences 
till thirteen. Then he was drawn into bad 
company, soon after leaving home for the 
sea; and, since then, has served in the army 
and navy, — in the army in Wilson's and 
Hawkins's [brigades]. His was the old 
story of the total subjection of moral power 
and thralldom to evil habits and associates. 
He would get drunk, whenever it was in his 
power. It was wrong; but he could not help 
it. Though he was awakened and recol- 
lected his parents looking long and in vain 
for his return, he soon returned to camp, to 
his wallowing in the mire, and I fear to his 
path to certain perdition. 

2d. [9th month.] — A Massachusetts 
major, the officer of the day, in his inspection 
of the guard-house came into our room to- 



48 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

day. We were lying on the floor engaged in 
reading and writing. He was apparently 
surprised at this and inquired the name of our 
books; and finding the Bible and Thomas a 
Kempis's Imitation of Christ, observed that 
they were good books. I cannot say if he 
knew we were Friends, but he asked us why 
we were in here. 

Like all officers he proceeded to reason 
with us, and to advise us to serve, presenting 
no comfort if we still persisted in our course. 
He informed us of a young Friend, Edward 
W. Holway of Sandwich, Mass., having been 
yesterday under punishment in the camp by 
his orders, who was today doing service 
about camp. He said he was not going to 
put his Quaker in the guard-house, but was 
going to bring him to work by punishment. 
We were filled with deep sympathy for him 
and desired to cheer him by kind words as 
well as by the knowledge of our similar situa- 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 49 

tion. We obtained permission of the Major 
to write to him a letter open to his inspection. 
" You may be sure," said E. W. H. to us at 
W., " the Major did not allow it to leave his 
hands." 

This forenoon the Lieutenant of the Day 
came in and acted the same part, though he 
was not so cool, and left expressing the hope, 
if we would not serve our country like men, 
that God would curse us. Oh, the trials 
from these officers! One after another 
comes in to relieve himself upon us. Finding 
us firm and not lacking in words, they usually 
fly into a passion and end by bullying us. 
How can we reason with such men? They 
are utterly unable to comprehend the pure 
Christianity and spirituality of our principles. 
They have long stiffened their necks in their 
own strength. They have stopped their ears 
to the voice of the Spirit, and hardened their 
hearts to his influences. They see no duty 



50 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

higher than that to country. What shall we 
receive at their hands? 

This Major tells us we will not be tried 
here. Then we are to be sent into the field, 
and there who will deliver us but God? Ah, 
I have nursed in my heart a hope that I may 
be spared to return home. Must I cast it 
out and have no desire, but to do the will of 
my Master. It were better, even so. O, 
Lord, Thy will be done. Grant I may make 
it my chief delight and render true submission 
thereto. 

Yesterday a little service was required of 
our dear L. M. M., but he insisted he could 
not comply. A sergeant and two privates 
were engaged. They coaxed and threatened 
him by turns, and with a determination not to 
be baffled took him out to perform it. 
Though guns were loaded he still stood firm 
and was soon brought back. We are happy 
here in guard-house, — too happy, too much 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 51 

at ease. We should see more of the Com- 
forter, — feel more strength, — if the trial 
were fiercer; but this is well. This is a trial 
of strength of patience. 

6th. [9th month.] — Yesterday we had 
officers again for visitors. Major J. B. 
Gould, 13th Massachusetts, came in with the 
determination of persuading us to consent to 
be transferred to the hospital here, he being 
the Provost Marshal of the island and having 
the power to make the transfer. He is dif- 
ferent in being and bearing from those who 
have been here before. His motives were 
apparently those of pure kindness, and his de- 
meanour was that of a gentleman. Though 
he talked with us more than an hour, he lost 
no part of his self-control or good humour. 
So by his eloquence and kindness he made 
more impression upon us than any before. 
As Congregationalist he well knew the courts 
of the temple, but the Holy of Holies he had 



52 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

never seen, and knew nothing of its secrets. 
He understood expediency; but is not the man 
to " lay down his life for my sake." He is 
sincere and seems to think what Major Gould 
believes cannot be far from right. After his 
attempt we remained as firm as ever. We 
must expect all means will be tried upon us, 
and no less persuasion than threats. 

At the Hospital, 7th. [9th month.] — 
Yesterday morning came to us Major Gould 
again, informing us that he had come to take 
us out of that dirty place, as he could not see 
such respectable men lying there, and was 
going to take us up to the hospital. We as- 
sured him we could not serve there, and asked 
him if he would not bring us back when we 
had there declared our purpose. He would 
not reply directly; but brought us here and 
left us. When the surgeon knew our deter- 
mination, he was for haling us back at once ; 
what he wanted, he said, was willing men. 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 53 

We sat on the sward without the hospital 
tents till nearly noon, for some one to take us 
back; when we were ordered to move into the 
tents and quarters assigned us in the mess- 
room. The Major must have interposed, 
demonstrating his kindness by his resolution 
that we should occupy and enjoy the pleas- 
anter quarters of the hospital, certainly if 
serving; but none the less so if we declined. 
Later in the day L. M. M. and P. D. were 
sitting without, when he passed them and, 
laughing heartily, declared they were the 
strangest prisoners of war he ever saw. He 
stopped some time to talk with them and 
when they came in they declared him a kind 
and honest man. 

If we interpret aright his conduct, this dan- 
gerous trial is over, and we have escaped the 
perplexities that his kindness and determina- 
tion threw about us. 

13th. — Last night we received a letter 



54 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

from Henry Dickinson, stating that the 
President, though sympathizing with those 
in our situation, felt bound by the Conscrip- 
tion Act, and felt liberty, in view of his oath 
to execute the laws, to do no more than detail 
us from active service to hospital duty, or to 
the charge of the coloured refugees. For 
more than a week have we lain here, refusing 
to engage in hospital service ; shall we retrace 
the steps of the past week? Or shall we go 
South as overseers of the blacks on the confis- 
cated estates of the rebels, to act under mili- 
tary commanders and to report to such? 
What would become of our testimony and our 
determination to preserve ourselves clear of 
the guilt of this war? 

P.S. We have written back to Henry 
Dickinson that we cannot purchase life at cost 
of peace of soul. 

\\th. — We have been exceeding sorrow- 
ful since receiving advice — as we must call 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 55 

it — from H. D. to enter the hospital service 
or some similar situation. We did not look 
for that from him. It is not what our 
Friends sent us out for; nor is it what we 
came for. We shall feel desolate and dreary 
in our position, unless supported and cheered 
by the words of those who have at heart our 
best interests more than regard for our per- 
sonal welfare. We walk as we feel guided 
by Best Wisdom. Oh, may we run and not 
err in the high path of Holiness. 

16th. — Yesterday a son-in-law of N. B. of 
Lynn came to see us. He was going to get 
passes for one or two of the Lynn Friends, 
that they might come over to see us today. 
He informed us that the sentiment of the 
Friends hereabouts was that we might enter 
the hospital without compromising our prin- 
ciples ; and he produced a letter from W. W. 
to S. B. to the same effect. W. W. expressed 
his opinion that we might do so without doing 



56 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

it in lieu of other service. How can we 
evade a fact? Does not the government 
both demand and accept it as in lieu of other 
service? Oh, the crudest blow of all comes 
from our friends. 

17th. — Although this trial was brought 
upon us by our friends, their intentions were 
well meant. Their regard for our personal 
welfare and safety too much absorbs the zeal 
they should possess for the maintenance of 
the principle of the peaceableness of our 
Master's kingdom. An unfaithfulness to 
this through meekness and timidity seems 
manifest, — too great a desire to avoid suf- 
fering at some sacrifice of principle, perhaps, 
— too little of placing of Faith and confi- 
dence upon the Rock of Eternal Truth. 

Our friends at home, with W. D. at their 
head, support us; and yesterday, at the op- 
portune moment, just as we were most dis- 
tressed by the solicitations of our visitors, 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 57 

kind and cheering words of Truth were sent 
us through dear C. M. P., whose love rushes 
out to us warm and living and just from an 
overflowing fountain. 

I must record another work of kind atten- 
tion shown us by Major Gould. Before we 
embarked, he came to us for a friendly visit. 
As we passed him on our way to the wharf 
he bade us Farewell and expressed a hope we 
should not have so hard a time as we feared. 
And after we were aboard the steamer, as the 
result of his interference on our behalf, we 
must believe, we were singled out from the 
midst of the prisoners, among whom we had 
been placed previous to coming aboard, and 
allowed the liberty of the vessel. By this are 
we saved much suffering, as the other prison- 
ers were kept under close guard in a corner 
on the outside of the boat. 

Forest City up the Potomac. 22nd. 
[9th month.] — It was near noon, yesterday, 



58 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

when we turned in from sea between Cape 
Charles and Henry; and, running thence 
down across the mouth of Chesapeake Bay, 
alongside Old Point Comfort, dropped 
anchor off Fortress Monroe. The scene 
around us was one of beauty, though many 
of its adornments were the results and means 
of wrong. The sunshine was brighter, the 
verdure greener to our eyes weary of the sea, 
and the calm was milder and more grateful 
that we had so long tossed in the storm. 

The anchor was soon drawn up again and 
the Forest City steamed up the James River 
toward Newport News, and turning to the 
left between the low, pine-grown banks, 
passed Norfolk to leave the New Hampshire 
detachment at Portsmouth. 

Coming back to Fortress Monroe, some 
freight was landed; and in the calm clear 
light of the moon, we swung away from shore 
and dropping down the mouth of the river, 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 59 

rounded Old Point, and, going up the Chesa- 
peake, entered the Potomac in the night-time. 

Off Shore, Alexandria. 23^. — Here 
we anchored last night after the main detach- 
ment was landed, and the Vermont and 
Massachusetts men remained on board an- 
other night. We hear we are to go right to 
the field, where active operations are going 
on. This seems hard. We have not till 
now given up the hope that we were not to 
go out into Virginia with the rest of the 
men, but were to be kept here at Washington. 
Fierce, indeed, are our trials. I am not dis- 
couraged entirely; but I am weak from want 
of food which I can eat, and from sickness. 
I do not know how I am going to live in such 
way, or get to the front. 

P.S. We have just landed; and I had the 
liberty to buy a pie of a woman hawking such 
things, that has strengthened me wonderfully. 

Camp near Culpeper. 25 th. — My 



60 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

distress is too great for words; but I must 
overcome my disinclination to write, or this 
record will remain unfinished. So, with ach- 
ing head and heart, I proceed. 

Yesterday morning we were roused early 
for breakfast and for preparation for start- 
ing. After marching out of the barracks, we 
were first taken to the armory, where each 
man received a gun and its equipments and a 
piece of tent. We stood in line, waiting for 
our turn with apprehensions of coming 
trouble. Though we had felt free to keep 
with those among whom we had been placed, 
we could not consent to carry a gun, even 
though we did not intend to use it ; and, from 
our previous experience, we knew it would go 
harder with us, if we took the first step in 
the wrong direction, though it might seem an 
unimportant one, and an easy and not very 
wrong way to avoid difficulty. So we felt 
decided we must decline receiving the guns. 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 61 

In the hurry and bustle of equipping a detach- 
ment of soldiers, one attempting to explain 
a position and the grounds therefor so pe- 
culiar as ours to junior, petty officers, possess- 
ing liberally the characteristics of these: 
pride, vanity, conceit, and an arbitrary spirit, 
impatience, profanity, and contempt for holy 
things, must needs find the opportunity a very 
unfavourable one. 

We succeeded in giving these young officers 
a slight idea of what we were; and en- 
deavoured to answer their questions of why 
we did not pay our commutation, and avail 
ourselves of that provision made expressly 
for such; of why we had come as far as that 
place, etc. We realized then the unpleasant 
results of that practice, that had been em- 
ployed with us by the successive officers into 
whose hands we had fallen, — of shirking any 
responsibility, and of passing us on to the 
next officer above. 



62 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

A council was soon holden to decide what 
to do with us. One proposed to place us 
under arrest, a sentiment we rather hoped 
might prevail, as it might prevent our being 
sent on to the front; but another, in some 
spite and impatience, insisted, as it was their 
duty to supply a gun to every man and for- 
ward him, that the guns should be put upon 
us, and we be made to carry them. Ac- 
cordingly the equipment was buckled about 
us, and the straps of the guns being loosened, 
they were thrust over our heads and hung 
upon our shoulders. In this way we were 
urged forward through the streets of Alex- 
andria; and, having been put upon a long 
train of dirt cars, were started for Culpeper. 
We came over a long stretch of desolated and 
deserted country, through battlefields of pre- 
vious summers, and through many camps now 
lively with the work of this present campaign. 
Seeing, for the first time, a country made 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 63 

dreary by the war-blight, a country once 
adorned with groves and green pastures and 
meadows and fields of waving grain, and 
happy with a thousand homes, now laid with 
the ground, one realizes as he can in no other 
way something of the ruin that lies in the 
trail of a war. But upon these fields of 
Virginia, once so fair, there rests a two-fold 
blight, first that of slavery, now that of war. 
When one contrasts the face of this country 
with the smiling hillsides and vales of New 
England, he sees stamped upon it in charac- 
ters so marked, none but a blind man can 
fail to read, the great irrefutable arguments 
against slavery and against war, too; and 
must be filled with loathing for these twin 
relics of barbarism, so awful in the potency 
of their consequences that they can change 
even the face of the country. 

Through the heat of this long ride, we felt 
our total lack of water and the meagreness 



64 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

of our supply of food. Our thirst became 
so oppressive as we were marched here from 
Culpeper, some four miles with scarcely a 
halt to rest, under our heavy loads, and 
through the heat and deep dust of the road, 
that we drank water and dipped in the brooks 
we passed, though it was discoloured with 
the soap the soldiers had used in washing. 
The guns interfered with our walking, and, 
slipping down, dragged with painful weight 
upon our shoulders. Poor P. D. fell out 
from exhaustion and did not come in till we 
had been some little time at the camp. We 
were taken to the 4th Vermont regiment and 
soon apportioned to companies. Though we 
waited upon the officer commanding the com- 
pany in which we were placed, and en- 
deavoured to explain our situation, we were 
required immediately after to be present at 
inspection of arms. We declined, but an at- 
tempt was made to force us to obedience, 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 65 

first, by the officers of the company, then, by 
those of the regiment; but, failing to exact 
obedience of us, we were ordered by the 
colonel to be tied, and, if we made outcry, to 
be gagged also, and to be kept so till he gave 
orders for our release. After two or three 
hours we were relieved and left under guard; 
lying down on the ground in the open air, 
and covering ourselves with our blankets, we 
soon fell asleep from exhaustion, and the 
fatigue of the day. 

This morning the officers told us we must 
yield. We must obey and serve. We were 
threatened great severities and even death. 
We seem perfectly at the mercy of the mili- 
tary power, and, more, in the hands of the 
inferior officers, who, from their being far 
removed from Washington, feel less restraint 
from those Regulations of the Army, which 
are for the protection of privates from per- 
sonal abuse. 



66 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

26th. [gth month.] —Yesterday my mind 
was much agitated: doubts and fears and 
forebodings seized me. I was alone, seeking 
a resting-place and finding none. It seemed 
as if God had forsaken me in this dark hour ; 
and the Tempter whispered, that after all I 
might be only the victim of a delusion. My 
prayers for faith and strength seemed all in 
vain. 

But this morning I enjoy peace, and feel as 
though I could face anything. Though I am 
as a lamb in the shambles, yet do I cry, " Thy 
will be done," and can indeed say, — 

Passive to His holy will 
Trust I in my Master still 
Even though he slay me. 

I mind me of the anxiety of our dear 
friends about home, and of their prayers 
for us. 

Oh, praise be to the Lord for the peace and 
love and resignation that has filled my soul 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 67 

today! Oh, the passing beauty of holiness! 
There is a holy life that is above fear; it is a 
close communion with Christ. I pray for 
this continually but am not free from the 
shadow and the tempter. There is ever 
present with us the thought that perhaps we 
shall serve the Lord the most effectually by 
our death, and desire, if that be the service 
He requires of us, that we may be ready and 
resigned. 

Regimental Hospital, 4th Vermont. 
29th. [gth month.] — On the evening of the 
26th the Colonel came to us apologizing for 
the roughness with which he treated us at 
first, which was, as he insisted, through igno- 
rance of our real character and position. He 
told us if we persisted in our course, death 
would probably follow; though at another 
time he confessed to P. D. that this would 
only be the extreme sentence of court-martial. 

He urged us to go into the hospital, stating 



68 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

that this course was advised by Friends 
about New York. We were too well aware 
of such a fact to make any denial, though it 
was a subject of surprise to us that he should 
be informed of it. He pleaded with us long 
and earnestly, urging us with many promises 
of indulgence and favour and attentions we 
found afterwards to be untrue. He gave us 
till the next morning to consider the question 
and report our decision. In our discussion 
of the subject among ourselves, we were very 
much perplexed. If all his statements con- 
cerning the ground taken by our Society were 
true, we seemed to be liable, if we persisted in 
the course which alone seemed to us to be in 
accordance with Truth, to be exposed to the 
charge of over-zeal and fanaticism even 
among our own brethren. Regarding the 
work to be done in hospital as one of mercy 
and benevolence, we asked if we had any right 
to refuse its performance; and questioned 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 69 

whether we could do more good by en- 
deavouring to bear to the end a clear testi- 
mony against war, than by labouring by word 
and deed among the needy in the hospitals 
and camps. We saw around us a rich field 
for usefulness in which there were scarce any 
labourers, and toward whose work our hands 
had often started involuntarily and unbidden. 
At last we consented to a trial, at least till we 
could make inquiries concerning the Colonel's 
allegations, and ask the counsel of our 
friends, reserving the privilege of returning 
to our former position. 

At first a great load seemed rolled away 
from us; we rejoiced in the prospect of life 
again. But soon there prevailed a feeling 
of condemnation, as though we had sold 
our Master. And that first day was one of 
the bitterest I ever experienced. It was a 
time of stern conflict of soul. The voice that 
seemed to say, " Follow me," as I sought 



70 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

guidance the night before, kept pleading with 
me, convincing of sin, till I knew of a truth 
my feet had strayed from His path. The 
Scriptures, which the day before I could 
scarcely open without finding words of 
strength and comfort, seemed closed against 
me, till after a severe struggle alone in the 
wood to which I had retired, I consented to 
give up and retrace my steps in faith. But 
it was too late. L. M. M. wishing to make 
a fair, honest trial, we were brought here — 
P. D. being already here unwell. We feel 
we are erring; but scarce anything is required 
of us and we wait to hear from Friends. 

Of these days of going down into sin, I 
wish to make little mention. I would that my 
record of such degradation be brief. We 
wish to come to an understanding with our 
friends and the Society before we move, but 
it does not seem that we can repress the up- 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 71 

heavings of Truth in our hearts. We are 
bruised by sin. 

It is with pleasure I record we have just 
waited upon the Colonel with an explanation 
of our distress of mind, requesting him to 
proceed with court-martial. We were kindly 
and tenderly received. " If you want a trial 
I can give it to you," he answered. The bri- 
gade has just marched out to join with the 
division for inspection. After that we are 
to have attention to our case. 

p. M. There is particular cause for con- 
gratulation in the consideration that we took 
this step this morning, when now we receive 
a letter from H. D. charging us to faithful- 
ness. 

When lately I have seen dear L. M. M. in 
the thoroughness and patience of his trial to 
perform service in hospital, his uneasiness 
and the intensity of his struggle as mani- 



72 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

fested by his silence and disposition to avoid 
the company of his friends, and seen him fail 
and declare to us, " I cannot stay here," I 
have received a new proof, and to me a 
strong one, because it is from the experimen- 
tal knowledge of an honest man, that no 
Friend, who is really such, desiring to keep 
himself clear of complicity with this system 
of war and to bear a perfect testimony 
against it, can lawfully perform service in the 
hospitals of the Army in lieu of bearing arms. 

10th mo., 3^. — Today dawned fair and 
our Camp is dry again. I was asked to clean 
the gun I brought, and declining, was tied 
some two hours upon the ground. 

6th. At Washington. — At first, after 
being informed of our declining to serve in 
his hospital, Colonel Foster did not appear 
altered in his kind regard for us. But his 
spleen soon became evident. At the time we 
asked for a trial by court-martial, and it was 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 73 

his duty to place us under arrest and proceed 
with the preferring of his charges against us. 
For a while he seemed to hesitate and consult 
his inferior officers, and among them his 
Chaplain. The result of the conference was 
our being ordered into our companies, that, 
separated, and with the force of the officers 
of a company bearing upon us, we might the 
more likely be subdued. Yet the Colonel 
assured L. M. M., interceding in my behalf, 
when the lieutenant commanding my company 
threatened force upon me, that he should 
not allow any personal injury. When we 
marched next day I was compelled to bear a 
gun and equipments. My associates were 
more fortunate, for, being asked if they 
would carry their guns, declined and saw no 
more trouble from them. The captain of 
the company in which P. D. was placed told 
him he did not believe he was ugly about it, 
and that he could only put him under arrest 



74 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

and prefer charges against him. He accord- 
ingly was taken under guard, where he lay 
till we left for here. 

The next morning the men were busy in 
burnishing their arms. When I looked to- 
ward the one I had borne, yellow with rust, 
I trembled in the weakness of the flesh at the 
trial I felt impending over me. Before the 
Colonel was up I knocked at his tent, but was 
told he was asleep, though, through the open- 
ing, I saw him lying gazing at me. Al- 
though I felt I should gain no relief from 
him, I applied again soon after. He ad- 
mitted me and, lying on his bed, inquired with 
cold heartlessness what I wanted. I stated 
to him, that I could never consent to serve, 
and, being under the war-power, was resigned 
to suffer instead all the just penalties of the 
law. I begged of him release from the at- 
tempts by violence to compel my obedience 
and service, and a trial, though likely to be 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 75 

made by those having no sympathy with me, 
yet probably in a manner comformable to 
law. 

He replied that he had shown us all the 
favour he should; that he had, now, turned us 
over to the military power and was going to 
let that take its course; that is, henceforth we 
were to be at the mercy of the inferior offi- 
cers, without appeal to law, justice, or mercy. 
He said he had placed us in a pleasant posi- 
tion, against which we could have no reason- 
able objection, and that we had failed to per- 
form our agreement. He wished to deny 
that our consent was only temporary and con- 
ditional. He declared, furthermore, his be- 
lief, that a man who would not fight for his 
country did not deserve to live. I was glad 
to withdraw from his presence as soon as I 
could. 

I went back to my tent and lay down for a 
season of retirement, endeavouring to gain 



76 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

resignation to any event. I dreaded torture 
and desired strength of flesh and spirit. My 
trial soon came. The lieutenant called me 
out, and pointing to the gun that lay near by, 
asked if I was going to clean it. I replied to 
him, that I could not comply with military 
requisitions, and felt resigned to the conse- 
quences. " I do not ask about your feelings ; 
I want to know if you are going to clean that 
gun?" "I cannot do it," was my answer. 
He went away, saying, " Very well," and I 
crawled into the tent again. Two sergeants 
soon called for me, and taking me a little 
aside, bid me lie down on my back, and 
stretching my limbs apart tied cords to my 
wrists and ankles and these to four stakes 
driven in the ground somewhat in the form of 
anX. 

I was very quiet in my mind as I lay there 
on the ground [soaked] with the rain of the 
previous day, exposed to the heat of the sun, 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 77 

and suffering keenly from the cords binding 
my wrists and straining my muscles. And, 
if I dared the presumption, I should say that 
I caught a glimpse of heavenly pity. I wept, 
not so much from my own suffering as from 
sorrow that such things should be in our own 
country, where Justice and Freedom and 
Liberty of Conscience have been the annual 
boast of Fourth-of-July orators so many 
years. It seemed that our forefathers in the 
faith had wrought and suffered in vain, when 
the privileges they so dearly bought were so 
soon set aside. And I was sad, that one en- 
deavouring to follow our dear Master should 
be so generally regarded as a despicable and 
stubborn culprit. 

After something like an hour had passed, 
the lieutenant came with his orderly to ask 
me if I was ready to clean the gun. I replied 
to the orderly asking the question, that it 
could but give me pain to be asked or required 



78 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

to do anything I believed wrong. He re- 
peated it to the lieutenant just behind him, 
who advanced and addressed me. I was 
favoured to improve the opportunity to say to 
him a few things I wished. He said little; 
and, when I had finished, he withdrew with 
the others who had gathered around. About 
the end of another hour his orderly came and 
released me. 

I arose and sat on the ground. I did not 
rise to go away. I had not where to go, 
nothing to do. As I sat there my heart 
swelled with joy from above. The consola- 
tion and sweet fruit of tribulation patiently 
endured. But I also grieved, that the world 
was so far gone astray, so cruel and blind. 
It seemed as if the gospel of Christ had never 
been preached upon earth, and the beautiful 
example of his life had been utterly lost 
sight of. 

Some of the men came about me, advising 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 79 

me to yield, and among them one of those 
who had tied me down, telling me what I had 
already suffered was nothing to what I must 
yet suffer unless I yielded; that human flesh 
could not endure what they would put upon 
me. I wondered if it could be that they could 
force me to obedience by torture, and exam- 
ined myself closely to see if they had ad- 
vanced as yet one step toward the accomplish- 
ment of their purposes. Though weaker in 
body, I believed I found myself, through di- 
vine strength, as firm in my resolution to 
maintain my allegiance to my Master. 

The relaxation of my nerves and muscles 
after having been so tensely strained left me 
that afternoon so weak that I could hardly 
walk or perform any mental exertion. 

I had not yet eaten the mean and scanty 
breakfast I had prepared, when I was or- 
dered to pack up my things and report my- 
self at the lieutenant's tent. I was accus- 



80 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

tomed to such orders and complied, little 
moved. 

The lieutenant received me politely with, 
" Good-morning, Mr. Pringle," and desiring 
me to be seated, proceeded with the writing 
with which he was engaged. I sat down in 
some wonderment and sought to be quiet and 
prepared for any event. 

"You are ordered to report to Washing- 
ton," said he ; " I do not know what it is for." 
I assured him that neither did I know. We 
were gathered before the Major's tent for 
preparation for departure. The regimental 
officers were there manifesting surprise and 
chagrin; for they could not but show both as 
they looked upon us, whom the day before 
they were threatening to crush into submis- 
sion, and attempting also to execute their 
threats that morning, standing out of their 
power and under orders from one superior to 
their Major Commanding E. M. As the 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 81 

bird uncaged, so were our hearts that morn- 
ing. Short and uncertain at first were the 
flights of Hope. As the slave many times 
before us, leaving his yoke behind him, turned 
from the plantations of Virginia and set his 
face toward the far North, so we from out a 
grasp as close and as abundant in suffering 
and severity, and from without the line of 
bayonets that had so many weeks surrounded 
us, turned our backs upon the camp of the 4th 
Vermont and took our way over the turnpike 
that ran through the tented fields of Cul- 
peper. 

At the War Office we were soon admitted 
to an audience with the Adjutant General, 
Colonel Townsend, whom we found to be a 
very fine man, mild and kind. He referred 
our cases to the Secretary of War, Stanton, 
by whom we were ordered to report for serv- 
ice to Surgeon General Hammond. Here 
we met Isaac Newton, Commissioner of Ag- 



82 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

riculture, waiting for our arrival, and James 
Austin of Nantucket, expecting his son, 
Charles L. Austin, and Edward W. Holway 
of Sandwich, Mass., conscripted Friends like 
ourselves, and ordered here from the 22nd 
Massachusetts. 

We understand it is through the influence 
of Isaac Newton that Friends have been able 
to approach the heads of Government in our 
behalf and to prevail with them to so great 
an extent. He explained to us the circum- 
stance in which we are placed. That the 
Secretary of War and President sympathized 
with Friends in their present suffering, and 
would grant them full release, but that they 
felt themselves bound by their oaths that they 
would execute the laws, to carry out to its 
full extent the Conscription Act. That there 
appeared but one door of relief open, — that 
was to parole us and allow us to go home, but 
subject to their call again ostensibly, though 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 83 

this they neither wished nor proposed to do. 
That the fact of Friends in the Army and re- 
fusing service had attracted public attention 
so that it was not expedient to parole us at 
present. That, therefore, we were to be sent 
to one of the hospitals for a short time, where 
it was hoped and expressly requested that we 
would consent to remain quiet and acquiesce, 
if possible, in whatever might be required of 
us. That our work there would be quite free 
from objection, being for the direct relief 
of the sick; and that there we would release 
none for active service in the field, as the 
nurses were hired civilians. 

These requirements being so much less ob- 
jectionable than we had feared, we felt relief, 
and consented to them. I. N. went with us 
himself to the Surgeon General's office, where 
he procured peculiar favours for us : that we 
should be sent to a hospital in the city, where 
he could see us often; and that orders should 



84 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

be given that nothing should interfere with 
our comfort, or our enjoyment of our con- 
sciences. 

Thence we were sent to Medical Purveyor 
Abbot, who assigned us to the best hospital 
in the city, the Douglas Hospital. 

The next day after our coming here Isaac 
Newton and James Austin came to add to our 
number E. W. H. and C. L. A., so now there 
are five of us instead of three. We arc 
pleasantly situated in a room by ourselves in 
the upper or fourth story, and are enjoying 
our advantages of good quarters and toler- 
able food as no one can except he has been 
deprived of them. 

[10th month] 8 th. — Today we have a 
pass to go out to see the city. 

gth. — We all went, thinking to do the 
whole city in a day, but before the time of 
our passes expired, we were glad to drag our- 
selves back to the rest and quiet of D. H. 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 85 

During the day we called upon our friend 
I. N. in the Patent Office. When he came to 
see us on the 7th, he stated he had called upon 
the President that afternoon to request him 
to release us and let us go home to our 
friends. The President promised to con- 
sider it over-night. Accordingly yesterday 
morning, as I. N. told us, he waited upon him 
again. He found there a woman in the 
greatest distress. Her son, only a boy of 
fifteen years and four months, having been 
enticed into the Army, had deserted and been 
sentenced to be shot the next day. As the 
clerks were telling her, the President was in 
the War Office and could not be seen, nor did 
they think he could attend to her case that 
day. I. N. found her almost wild with grief. 
" Do not despair, my good woman," said he, 
" I guess the President can be seen after a 
bit." He soon presented her case to the 
President, who exclaimed at once, " That 



86 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

must not be, I must look into that case, before 
they shoot that boy"; and telegraphed at 
once to have the order suspended. 

I. N. judged it was not a fit time to urge 
our case. We feel we can afford to wait, 
that a life may be saved. But we long for 
release. We do not feel easy to remain 
here. 

wth. — Today we attended meeting held 
in the house of a Friend, Asa Arnold, living 
near here. There were but four persons be- 
side ourselves. E. W. H. and C. L. A. 
showed their copy of the charges about to 
have been preferred against them in court- 
martial before they left their regiment, to a 
lawyer who attended the meeting. He 
laughed at the Specification of Mutiny, de- 
claring such a charge could not have been 
lawfully sustained against them. 

The experiences of our new friends were 
similar to ours, except they fell among offi- 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 87 

cers who usually showed them favour and 
rejoiced with them in their release. 

13th. — L. M. M. had quite an adventure 
yesterday. He being fireman with another 
was in the furnace room among three or four 
others, when the officer of the day, one of 
the surgeons, passed around on inspection. 
" Stand up," he ordered them, wishing to be 
saluted. The others arose ; but by no means 
L. The order was repeated for his benefit, 
but he sat with his cap on, telling the surgeon 
he had supposed he was excused from such 
things as he was one of the Friends. 
Thereat the officer flew at him, exclaiming, 
he would take the Quaker out of him. He 
snatched off his cap and seizing him by the 
collar tried to raise him to his feet; but find- 
ing his strength insufficient and that L. was 
not to be frightened, he changed his purpose 
in his wrath and calling for the corporal of 
the guard had him taken to the guard-house. 



88 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

This was about eleven A. m. and he lay there 
till about six p. M., when the surgeon in 
charge, arriving home and hearing of it, 
ordered the officer of the day to go and take 
him out, telling him never to put another man 
into the guard-house while he was in charge 
here without consulting him. The manner 
of his release was very satisfactory to us, and 
we waited for this rather than effect it by our 
own efforts. We are all getting uneasy 
about remaining here, and if our release do 
not come soon, we feel we must intercede 
with the authorities, even if the alternative 
be imprisonment. 

The privations I have endured since leav- 
ing home, the great tax upon my nervous 
strength, and my mind as well, since I have 
had charge of our extensive correspondence, 
are beginning to tell upon my health and I 
long for rest. 

20th. We begin to feel we shall have to 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 89 

decline service as heretofore, unless our posi- 
tion is changed. I shall not say but we sub- 
mit too much in not declining at once, but it 
has seemed most prudent at least to make suit 
with Government rather than provoke the 
hostility of their subalterns. We were or- 
dered here with little understanding of the 
true state of things as they really exist here; 
and were advised by Friends to come and 
make no objections, being assured it was but 
for a very brief time and only a matter of 
form. It might not have been wrong; but 
as we find we do too much fill the places of 
soldiers (L. M. M.'s fellow fireman has just 
left for the field, and I am to take his place, 
for instance), and are clearly doing military 
service, we are continually oppressed by a 
sense of guilt, that makes our struggles 
earnest. 

2 1 st. — I. N. has not called yet; our situa- 
tion is becoming almost intolerable. I query 



90 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

if patience is justified under the circumstances. 
My distress of mind may be enhanced by my 
feeble condition of health, for today I am 
confined to my bed, almost too weak to get 
downstairs. This is owing to exposure after 
being heated over the furnaces. 

26th. — Though a week has gone by, and 
my cold has left me, I find I am no better, and 
that I am reduced very low in strength and 
flesh by the sickness and pain I am experienc- 
ing. Yet I still persist in going below once a 
day. The food I am able to get is not such 
as is proper. 

nth mo., $th. — I spend most of my time 
on my bed, much of it alone. And very pre- 
cious to me is the nearness unto the Master 
I am favoured to attain to. Notwithstanding 
my situation and state, I am happy in the 
enjoyment of His consolations. Lately my 
confidence has been strong, and I think I be- 
gin to feel that our patience is soon to be re- 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 91 

warded with relief; insomuch that a little 
while ago, when dear P. D. was almost over- 
come with sorrow, I felt bold to comfort him 
with the assurance of my belief, that it would 
not be long so. My mind is too weak to al- 
low of my reading much; and, though I enjoy 
the company of my companions a part of the 
time, especially in the evening, I am much 
alone; which affords me abundant time for 
meditation and waiting upon God. The 
fruits of this are sweet, and a recompense for 
affliction. 

6th. — Last evening E. W. H. saw I. N. 
particularly on my behalf, I suppose. He 
left at once for the President. This morn- 
ing he called to inform us of his interview at 
the White House. The President was moved 
to sympathy in my behalf, when I. N. gave 
him a letter from one of our Friends in New 
York. After its perusal he exclaimed to our 
friend, " I want you to go and tell Stanton 



92 The Record of a Quaker Conscience 

that it is my wish all those young men be sent 
home at once." He was on his way to the 
Secretary this morning as he called. 

Later. I. N. has just called again inform- 
ing us in joy that we are free. At the War 
Office he was urging the Secretary to consent 
to our paroles, when the President entered. 
" It is my urgent wish," said he. The Secre- 
tary yielded; the order was given, and we 
were released. What we had waited for so 
many weeks was accomplished in a few mo- 
ments by a Providential ordering of circum- 
stances. 

7th. — I. N. came again last evening bring- 
ing our paroles. The preliminary arrange- 
ments are being made, and wc are to start 
this afternoon for New York. 

Note. Rising from my sick-bed to under- 
take this journey, which lasted through the 
night, its fatigues overcame me, and upon my 
arrival in New York I was seized with de- 



The Record of a Quaker Conscience 93 

lirium from which I only recovered after 
many weeks, through the mercy and favour 
of Him, who in all this trial had been our 
guide and strength and comfort. 



THE END 



PBINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 



*HE following pages contain advertisements of a 
few of the Macmillan books on kindred subjects 



The Heart of the Puritan 

By ELIZABETH DEERING H'ANSCOM 

$1.50 

The purpose of this volume is stated by the editor in 
these words : " I determined to bring together in one 
place in a convenient compendium, as it were, some 
gleanings from many and dusty tomes, some fragments 
of reality, in the hope that from them might radiate for 
others, as for me, shafts of light to penetrate the past." 
The result is unique in the revelation afforded in the 
Puritans' own words of their daily walk and conversa- 
tion and of that inner temper which governed their pub- 
lic acts. The range is from orders for clothes and 
directions for an Atlantic voyage to the soul searchings 
of Cotton Mather and the spiritual ecstasies of Mrs. 
Jonathan Edwards. 

The idea is a happy one, and Miss Hanscom carries 
it through with great tact and deftness. 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

Publishers 64M>6 Fifth Avenue New York 



The Tree of Heaven 



By MAY SINCLAIR 

Cloth, $1.60 

A singularly penetrating story of modern life, written 
in the author's very best manner. The scheme, the 
root motive of the book, may be said to be a vindica- 
tion of the present generation — the generation that was 
condemned as neurotic and decadent by common con- 
sent a little more than three years ago, but is now en- 
during the ordeal of the war with great singleness of 
heart. This theme, in Miss Sinclair's hands, assumes 
big proportions and gives her at the same time ample 
opportunity for character analysis, in which art she is 
equalled by few contemporary writers. 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

Publishers 64r-66 Fifth Avenue New York 



Fairhope : The Annals of a 
Country Church 

By EDGAR DEWITT JONES 

Cloth, i2mo., $1.25 

Fairhope meeting-house is in the northermost country 
of Kentucky, in the midst of a populous farming com- 
munity. In this book Mr. Jones, a life-long member 
of the community, tells the story of Fairhope meeting- 
house. The book is a remarkably sympathetic and ap- 
pealing account of a phase of American rural life at a 
time when religion was always the uppermost topic in 
people's minds. 

" Simple narratives of our people, our preachers, and 
the lights and shadows of our rural religious life " — is 
the author's modest description of his work. But this 
gives no hint of the book's peculiar charm. Those who 
love birds and stretches of green meadow, glimpses of 
lordly and high hills, the soil and the sincere life lived 
on it, will find here a genuine delight. 

Above all is the interest in the preachers them- 
selves. " There were giants in those days, and for the 
most part our ministers were good and noble men. Of 
their goodness and sincerity these annals bear witness ! " 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York 



Christine 



By ALICE CHOLMONDELEY 

Cloth, i2mo., $1.25 

"A book which is true in essentials — so real that one is 
tempted to doubt whether it is fiction at all — doubly welcome 
and doubly important. ... It would be difficult indeed to find 
a book in which the state of mind of the German people is pic- 
tured so cleverly, with so much understanding and convincing 
detail. . . . Intelligent, generous, sweet-natured, broadminded, 
quick to see and to appreciate all that is beautiful either in na- 
ture or in art, rejoicing humbly over her own great gift, en- 
dowed with a keen sense of humour, Christine's is a thoroughly 
wholesome and lovable character. But charming as Christine's 
personality and her literary style both are, the main value of the 
book lies in its admirably lucid analysis of the German mind." 
— New York Times. 

"Absolutely different from preceding books of the war. Its 
very freedom and girlishness of expression, its very sim- 
plicity and open-heartedness, prove the truth of its pictures."— 
New York World. 

" A luminous story of a sensitive and generous nature, the 
spontaneous expression of one spirited, affectionate, ardently 
ambitious, and blessed with a sense of humour."— Boston 
Herald. 

"The next time some sentimental old lady of either sex, who 
'can't see why we have to send our boys abroad,' comes into 
your vision, and you know they are too unintelligent (they 
usually are) to understand a serious essay, try to trap them 
into reading 'Christine.' If you succeed we know it will do 
them good." — Town and Country. 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




005 405 359 9 



